>>5153947It seems that it does, for when you pop open the scroll case, it only hesitates for a moment before bowing its head and ‘shutting’ its by-now-healed eyes--more accurately, their flame dims considerably.
“I will need your true name,” you say, chancing it. You don’t, but…
>Those crits“Brezzog,” the hellhound says, with nary a hesitation.
>18 for occultismYou speak the incantation to ‘imprison’ Brezzog, however temporarily, in the scroll-case. The demon thus secured and hidden from prying eyes, you cap the case and tuck it back into your pack.
>12 for probabilityYou look about quickly, hoping the coast is clear. You see no guards and, blissfully, no agents of the Tower either: only Zi, peaking out from behind a pile of discarded construction materials, food waste, and other unsorted Goblintown trash.
“Holy fucknuts,” she says. “Gods’-fucking-gallstones. How did you… What did you…”
“No time,” you reply, a tad snappily. “Get me ssomewhere out of ssight?”
Zi takes in your near-nakedness. You can see that this only raises further questions for the goblin-girl—your clothes are obviously burned, your shapeshifted, green-tinted body pristine. Furthermore, Irinnile neglected to shapeshift you a certain ‘asset’ with which Zi is by now intimately familiar: your genitals are largely unchanged from their default state. Still, the goblin has the good sense to nod and beckon to you, leading you through a series of narrow side-streets at a breakneck pace. When dawn’s light crests the city-adjacent a shanty-town, you are already hidden away in a half-constructed domicile.
“There was already some gobs living in here,” she confides, “but I chased ‘em off and paid ‘em off. We’re alone.”
You smile and nod, grateful for that much. The entire scuffle and escape was mercifully brief, but you still need a moment’s rest. You were already running on fumes, physically and mentally.
“Now, what was all…” Zi gestures to you—all of you—“THAT? Who are you? What… WHAT are you?”
“Zi,” you say, “calm down, and I’ll—”
“CALM DOWN?” she practically screeches, tugging on her oversized ears the way a frustrated human might pull at their hair. “You’re a, a…”
You interrupt her stammering with a kiss. She hesitates, but then melts into your familiar-yet-unfamiliar embrace—quieted for a moment, though she makes a muffled squeak of confused pleasure.
What do you do?
>Tell her (sort of) the truth: you are an occultist, working for a spooky benefactor, and you have a demon inside you>Tell Zi a lie, explaining it all as anti-demon magic you learned to better fight occult threats>Modify her memory of the most recent events [remember, goblins have a degree of magic resistance]>Quiet her concerns with a kiss, and reward her with a sexual romp>Kill her—she knows too much>Write-in 